


Three universes where Kon-El was an awesome brother

by Walutahanga



Category: Smallville, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman Returns (2006), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Brothers, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2515211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walutahanga/pseuds/Walutahanga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three universes where Kon-El was an awesome brother (and one where he didn't get the chance).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Baby (Superman Returns Universe)

**Author's Note:**

> “Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago -the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider....It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled.”  
> -Jane Mersky Leder

For a man who can bend steel with his bare hands, Kal-El is surprisingly bad at confrontation. He would much rather let sleeping dogs lie than risk making anyone unhappy. Sadly, this habit has created a lot of his worst problems. Like that one time he accidentally erased part of Lois’ memory and was too chicken to tell her. Or the time he took off into space for five years without telling her good-bye. Or the six months after coming back it took to admit to her that he was Superman.

(Luckily, Richard was in the room for that confession, and was able to talk Lois down from trying to murder Kal-El with a stiletto. Not that it would have worked, but Kal-El would have felt bad if she broke her shoe.)

So when he moved in with Lois and Richard, one of the agreements was ‘no secrets’. If he messed up, he got a twenty-four hour grace period, but after that he had to tell them. This rule worked pretty well, because Kal-El works well with rules. It’s only when you get outside them, to the ambiguous moral grey, that he gets lost.

Still, sometimes things get away from people, even Kal-El.

Like, oh say, the fifteen-year-old-appearing (but actually three month old) clone he’d found in a Cadmus lab. At first he’d taken him to the Fortress, to scan and de-bug and vaccinate and un-hypnotise, and basically just make sure the boy wasn’t a threat to himself or anyone else. Kal-El hadn’t mentioned it, because he’d been certain the boy wouldn’t last beyond a week. Kryptonian DNA is notoriously unstable when it comes to cloning.

But apparently Cadmus knew what they were doing, or were just very lucky. Kon-El (the name Kal-El had picked for him, selected carefully from a list of illustrious and not-so-illustrious ancestors) shows no signs of cellular degradation and his mental health remains stable, if rather impressionable and utterly naïve regarding the outside world. Clark had dropped him off at the farm, thinking that Kon could use a real home and his mother could use the help. Only for his mother to call him a few days later and mention gently-but-firmly she was getting on in years and the last thing she needed was to raise another super-powered teenager, and besides, didn’t Metropolis have a great public education system..?

So Kal-El bites the bullet and takes Kon home on the night that, just so coincidentally, happens to be Christmas Eve.

It’s past midnight, and dimmed lights tells Kal-El that everyone has gone to bed. He leads Kon in through the back door, telling him to keep his voice down.

“Who lives here?” Kon whispers.  

“I do, with my… friends.” Kal-El isn’t entirely sure how to explain the minutia of his relationship with Lois and Richard, so doesn’t try. He’ll explain it to Kon later, once he’s explained things to his partners.

“Am I going to live here?”

“Maybe. I have to sort a few things out first.”

“Okay.” Kon absorbs this as he does everything Kal tells him; with unthinking acceptance. That bothers Kal; if it hadn’t been Kal who found him, who else would Kon have been blindly obeying?

“Stay here,” he tells Kon. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” Kon takes a step closer to the Christmas tree, fascinated by the lights shifting gently from hazy blue to warm red to clear green.

“And don’t touch anything.”

“Okay.”

Kal-El heads upstairs. He takes care to stop by the laundry room and change out of the Superman suit into a more casual sweatpants and t-shirt. Though Lois will get angry just as easily with Superman as she does Clark, Richard doesn’t like fighting with Kal-El when he’s wearing the suit. He says it makes him feel brow-beaten just looking at it. And Kal-El doesn’t want Richard refusing to engage tonight; he needs to talk to both his partners.

Richard is asleep, but Lois is awake and reading in bed. She looks up and smiles as Kal enters.

“Hey. Patrol went okay?”

“Fine.” He walks over to kiss her, taking the time to savour the softness of her lips. Because very soon the tranquillity of this moment is going to be over.

She quirks an eyebrow as he leans back.

“Right. So what went wrong?”

Trust Lois to see straight through him. Kal sighs and sits down on the edges of the bed.

“We may want to wake Richard up for this.”

It goes about as well as he expected. Lois doesn’t throw any shoes at him, but that’s probably only because Jason’s asleep down the hall and she doesn’t want to wake him. (Plus Kal made sure to check that all her shoes were out of reach in the cupboard before he started.) What she does is hiss a furious rant using words like “irresponsible” and “lack of trust” and “at your _mothers_?!”. Richard doesn’t rant, but waits until Lois has wound down before adding a quiet “You should have told us Clark” that hurts just as much.

“I know.” Kal-El fiddles with the edge of the blanket so he doesn’t have to look them in the eyes. “I just didn’t think…”

“Think what?”

“That he’d live. I honestly thought he’d be dead inside a few days. I could put myself through that, but you guys and Jason? I couldn’t handle that too.”

They’re quiet for a few heartbeats. Then Lois flips back the covers and says:

“Alright, where is he?”

“What?” Kal-El watches her put a dressing robe on and feel around under the bed for her slippers.  

“Your clone. Where is he? I should meet him, if he’s your son.”

“ _We_ should,” Richard echoes pointedly. Lois shoots him an apologetic look, having forgotten someone else was part of the ‘we’, as Lois tends to do when she gets going. Then Richard gets out of bed too, saying: “She’s right. I want to meet him too.”

So they troop downstairs to where Kal-El left Kon.  

Kon is sitting cross-legged beside the Christmas tree, a bemused look on his face. A pyjama-clad Jason is kneeling in front of him, a delighted look on his face as he pokes at the ‘S’ on Kon’s shirt.

“Jason, what are you doing up?” Kal-El says.

Jason turns to smile at all his parents.

“Santa gave me what I want! I didn’t think he would, but I asked, and he did!”

“What did you ask Santa for?” Kal-El asks slowly.

Richard has his hand over his mouth, like he’s trying not to laugh. He whispers:

“On his Christmas list, Jason asked for a big brother. It was number one.”

“Oh. So you guys are fine with this? With keeping Kon?” He’s fairly sure of the answer, but he needs to be certain.

“Well, we can’t exactly give him back now. Jason’s bonded and everything.” Richard’s smiling though, so that’s a good sign.

Kal-El looks at his other partner. Lois is watching Jason babble away at Kon who’s listening with an intense focus, as if everything Jason says is fascinating. Probably it is; taking into account the gaps in Kon’s knowledge, Jason's level of understanding is probably at least equal to Kon's, and probably slightly superior. 

“Lois?” Kal-El says cautiously. Without looking away from the kids, she says:

“I hope you know how to forge birth certificates, because we’re going to have to explain where he came from.”

Kal-El smiles, relief washing through him.

Lois adds:

“And you’re still sleeping on the couch until further notice.”

“Understood.”


	2. The Peacekeeper (Comics universe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five universes where Kon-El was an awesome brother (and one where he didn't get the chance).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago -the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider....It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've travelled.”  
> -Jane Mersky Leder

Kon makes a point of dropping by Lois and Clark’s apartment after Chris gets back from the Phantom Zone. This is, of course, the second time that Chris has been brought back and he’s once again a six year old.  

Kon knows something is wrong straight away. Lois’ tight mouth, and Clark’s despairing I’m-so-disappointed look of doom is telling, as is Chris’ sullen look of muted rebellion. Tension is wound tight inside the apartment, and Kon blurts out the first thing that comes into his head.

“Can I take the kid out for ice-cream?"

“I don’t think so.” Clark is shaking his head, but Kon’s seen the desperate flash of hope on Chris’ face behind his parents’ backs. “We’re still not sure of the aftereffects of the Nightwing spirit and if something happens–”

“Aw, come on, Dad.” Kon only uses the ‘d’ word when he’s dying, drugged or needs Clark to interfere with Batman on something. From the way Clark flinches, Kon thinks he’s timed this one pretty well. “I’m family and I’ve barely even met the kid. If anything looks even a little bit freaky, I’ll bring him straight back, promise.” He crosses his chest and tries to look earnest.

Clark hesitates.

“Well, I suppose–”

“Great! Come on kid, lets go.” Kon holds his hand out, and Chris eyes it dubiously before apparently deciding that hanging out with Kon is better than staying here with Lois and Clark. He takes Kon’s hand.

Twenty minutes later they’re in an ice-cream parlour down the street, squeezed into a booth and sharing a giant chocolate sundae. Chris has only spoken to request more marshmallows, which Kon has decided to take as a good sign.

“So,” he says, licking chocolate syrup where it’s dripped on his fingers. “You want to tell me what’s up with the parentals?”

Chris frowns a little at him, having being caught with his mouth full.

“Da wha?” He says, words muffled by ice cream and marshmallows and sprinkles.

“Lois and Clark. What’s up with them?”

Chris swallows, but he’s frowning for real this time.

“Nothing,” he mutters. There’s something distinctly un-childlike about his expression, the way he looks out the window at the pedestrians walking past. Across the street, a young couple is walking hand in hand, whispering, and Chris drops his gaze back to his ice cream with a scowl.

Kon studies him for a moment, and shrugs, casual-like.

“Okay, then.”

He’s taken another scoop of ice cream when Chris blurts out:

“They treat me like a child!”

His blue eyes are resentful, blazing with frustration. In the back of his mind, Kon wonders if Zod had ever looked this way when he fought Clark’s father back on Krypton.

“Uh, hate to break it to you, Chris. But you are a kid.”

“No, I’m not.” Chris’s small fingers curl into fists, restrained by age and the kryptonian power-muffling device. “I was a god.”

"O-kay. Now Kon kind of understands why Clark was reluctant to let the kid go outside. He keeps his tone conversational.

“You’re talking about the Nightwing thing, right? The dimensional entity or whatever that possessed you.”

“It was a god,” Chris insists and mutters something in kyrptonian that Kon can sort of make out: < _Alien primitive mind-devoid_. >

“Now that’s not nice,” he says, licking his spoon. “My mind might not be that great, but I do have one.”

Chris twitches in surprise, putting down his spoon. This time the kryptonian’s a bit harder to puzzle out, but Kon gets it after a few seconds.

< _Singular encompass mouth-shape source crystal-home?_ >

“Do I speak kryptonian? Nah, not really. Kara’s been teaching me to understand a bit of it.”

< _Father negative?_ >

“Not Clark, you mean? No, Clark doesn’t get into that stuff with me.”

Chris’ forehead creases as he thinks about that, like a little professor. It’s ridiculously cute and Kon kind of wishes he had a camera.

_< Encompass mouth-shape source crystal home prohibitive, Father decree. Mother negative encompass proximity relating Father anger…>_

“Woah, slow down a bit. I’m having trouble with the sentence structure. So Lois doesn’t, ah, < _encompass >_ – that means ‘speak’, right? – she doesn’t speak krytponian, and Clark doesn’t like it when you speak it in front of her. Is that it?”

“< _Encompass >_ in this context means comprehend,” Chris says, and adds grudgingly: “But that is the gist of it, yes.”

“Thanks.” Kon takes a bit of icecream, swallows and adds: “I sort of see his point, you know. It’s kind of rude, like you’re talking about her in front her. Sort of like you’re rejecting her because you think she’s stupid or something.”

Chris had started to look like he was angry, but at the last part he looks stricken.

_< Goal divergence. Mother suffering unintentional.>_

“Yeah, I figured. But you might want to tell her that sometime.” Kon takes another dollop of icecream. “Tell you what, if you’re cool I’ll ask Clark if you can help with my kryptonian lessons. He can’t argue with that, and we can set it up for every week or so. We can talk kryptonian then all you want.”

 _< Dependant singular issuing mouth-shape opposing absorb.>_ Chris gives Kon the first real smile he’s made in his presence, and Kon realises he’s being teased somehow. “But yes, I would like that." 

They eat a while longer in companionable silence and Kon watches Chris watching the people passing by. He seems interested in the couples and cranes his neck to get a better look at a tall blonde woman walking past. His expression is heartbreakingly hopeful, slumping once he gets a good look at her.

“She was pretty,” Kon remarks neutrally.

“I guess.” Chris stirs his icecream with his spoon. Kon considers him thoughtfully. He’s starting to think that recovering from godhood isn’t the issue. Or not all of it anyway. He’s trying to think of how to ask the question delicately when Chris says: “You’re dating a god, aren’t you?”

“Half-god, yeah.”

“Are you ever afraid that oneday she’ll leave you behind?” Chris’ eyes are on his bowl. “You’re mortal. Perhaps oneday she will embrace that side of herself and turn away form Earth.”

The idea of Cassandra as a full god sends ice down Kon spine, because it’s not so far-fetched. Demi-gods have become full gods before and Cassandra does seem to be a favorite of her father…

But looking at Chris, he doesn’t think the question is really about him.

“Cassandra wouldn’t leave me because of that,” he says. “Why? Did someone leave you?”

He’s fully expecting Chris to start talking about Lois or possibly Ursa. But Chris, again, manages to surprise him. He says simply:

“My wife.”

That tone of painful yearning should be laughable coming from a seven year old. It’s not.

“Thyra,” Kon says carefully. “You’re talking about Thyra.”

Chris nods.

“She was my–” And here Kon doesn’t quite understand the words. < _Completeness-making-self. One-whose-absence-creates-imbalance. >_

“Soulmate. She was your soulmate.”

“Is that the word? Father wouldn’t say. He doesn’t believe I should talk of these things. He would be happy if I did not think of them at all.” Suddenly all the anger drains out of Chris. “Mother tries, but it makes her uncomfortable. I think they would be happier if I pretended to remember nothing of my time as Nightwing’s vessel at all.”

Kon-El doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s kind of a hard thing to know how to respond to. Sorry your wife died. Sorry your parents aren’t being very supportive of the grieving process. Sorry you spent all those months in the Phantom Zone because none of us knew how to get you out, and most of us figured you were probably dead within seconds of entering anyway.

Sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.

But none of that is going to help. Perhaps the only thing that will help is letting Chris talk about his loss, and getting Lois and Clark to do the same.

“Tell me about Thyra,” he says. “I never got to meet her. What was she like?”

A real smile flashes across Chris’ face and he begins to speak. 


	3. The Caretaker (Smallville universe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three universes where Kon-El was an awesome brother (and one where he didn't get the chance).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago -the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider....It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled.”  
> -Jane Mersky Leder

Conner tries not to resent Clark. This is easy sometimes, and difficult other times. Because Clark has this tendency to be a dick.  And also an emotional retard.

Like, for instance, his shooting down Conner’s tentative request for acknowledgement _(“Are you my… father?”)_ and shoving the word ‘brother’ between them like a shield.

Conner gets it. He totally does. Clark’s way too young to be the father of a teenage boy. Of course he was going to freak out and take some time to get used to the idea, and it’s not like Conner ever expected public acknowledgement. It would just be nice sometimes in private, that’s all. Except Clark always gets that constipated look when Conner jokingly calls him ‘dad’ or ‘old man’. Maybe because he can hear the sincerity beneath the joking and wants none of it. 

“It’s not you,” Chloe says in the middle of a conversation about patrol schedules. They’re alone in the Watchtower.

“What isn’t?” Conner says.

“Clark’s issues with fathers. It’s not you.” Chloe taps a pen absently on the table top. “The thing is, Clark sees Lex when he looks at you.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t have hurt him worse if she’d stabbed him with kryptonite.

“Not like that, kid. He sees the Lex that should have been, the one Clark couldn’t save. And he’s terrified of screwing you up.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You and I know that, but Clark saw firsthand how badly a father can screw up a son, and the kind of fallout that results from that.”

“I thought Clark’s dad was great.”

“Not Jonathon. Lionel. He _ruined_ Lex.” Chloe’s mouth is tight and angry, and Conner realises suddenly that if Clark and Lex used to be friends, then Chloe and Lex had probably been close as well once upon a time as well. “My point is, don’t take Clark’s issues personally. He’s just trying to protect you. Even from himself.”

Conner thinks about that later. From conversations he wasn’t supposed to be listening in on, he knows the Fortress had something to do with Kara leaving, and Clark won’t go there anymore, and won’t let Conner go either. And while Clark avoids the ‘F’ word like the plague, he’s still the one attending Conner’s Parent-Teacher nights and doing his laundry and giving him unsolicited advice about girls.

Conner finds Clark on top of the roof that night, drinking a beer and looking out across the city. Conner climbs up to join him, sitting down next to him. The evening air is cool.

“Tell me something about Lex,” he says. “Not bad. All I know is bad stuff. Tell me something good.”

“Why do you want to know?” Clark says guardedly.

“I don’t know.” Conner scratches his elbow. “He didn’t used to be all bad. And he’s my brother too, even if he doesn’t remember.”

And if he did, he’d be more likely to want to harvest Conner for organs than throw a baseball with him. But that’s bad stuff again, and Conner’s trying to concentrate on the good.

Clark is quiet for a while. Then he says:

“Did I ever tell you about the time the football jocks made me the Scarecrow?”

“Is that when they take your clothes and hang you up in the cornfield?”

“That’s the one.”

“Dude, no way! How’d they get the jump on you?”

“That’s a long story. Kryptonite was involved. Lex was driving past, saw I was in trouble, and cut me down. If he hadn’t stopped to help, a lot of people would have died that night.” 

“What did he want you to do for him?”

“Nothing at all. He saw I needed help, so he helped me.”

Clark looks distant, but Conner can’t quite wrap his head around a Lex Luthor who helped someone out of the goodness of his heart. He wonders if Clark was editing his own memories to make Lex better than he was. It seems easier to believe than there being a time that Lex wasn’t a manipulative psychopath.

“He would have liked you,” Clark says unexpectedly.

“Really?”

“He always wanted a little brother.”

“I thought he had you.”

Clark gives him a quick sideways glance that Conner can’t quite read. Then he wraps an arm about his shoulders and gives him a quick hug.

“What was that for?”

“No reason.”

“Does this mean I get a beer?”

“Sure – in five years.”

Conner’s shoulder is warm where Clark’s hand had rested.


	4. The Avoider (Young Justice universe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Universes where Kon-El was an awesome brother (and one where he didn't get the chance).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago -the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider....It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled.”   
> -Jane Mersky Leder

Conner doesn’t like going to Cadmus. Its halls are too stark a reminder of his beginnings and the reproachful eyes of the Genomorphs are too uncomfortable a reminder of his failures. 

The security guards know to let him in, and Dubbilex greets him quietly, leading him through metal corridors to the storage room. Here, the thousands of glass cylinders wait, each containing some soul waiting to be born or re-awakened. Some look human. Some don’t.

The one Conner stops before holds a teenage boy; square-jawed, dark-haired, face tensed as if the grip of some dark dream or unpleasant thought. Conner wants to smooth away the wrinkle. It isn’t fair that Match doesn’t seem any more peaceful in cryo-sleep than he did awake.

“Hi Match,” Conner says without ceremony. “It’s me again.”

There’s a chair already waiting for him, like always. He drags it closer to the tube and sits down. He looks up at Match’s face, so similar to his own. To Superman.

But Superman never comes down here, even though he has to know about Match from the mission reports. That really pisses Conner off, that Match can just be swept away and forgotten. At least Conner gets reluctant acknowledgement of his existence, as little as that is.

“I brought another book,” he says abruptly. “Kid Flash says it’s pretty good. It’s about twin brothers. Kind of like us, I guess.”

Conner feels stupid talking to someone in cryo-sleep. But Robin says people in comas sometimes hear people talking to them, and Conner can’t stand the idea that Match might be awake, thinking everyone had forgotten him.

He opens the book.

“Once upon a time,” he reads. “There were two brothers, the sons of a king…”


End file.
